One Soldier Out Of Many
by samile
Summary: Deals with the 101st as they hold the line at Bastogne up until the end of the war. Focuses mainly on Janovec, but there are other characters present as well.
1. Chapter 1

**One Soldier Out Of Many**

_This story starts when the 101st is holding Bastogne and runs until the end of the war; It focuses mainly on Janovec, but there are other characters involved also. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!_

He can't remember when he's ever been so cold in his life. He turns from where has been watching the line and heads to the foxhole he has been sharing with Luz, hoping he can bum some smokes off George.

His boots crunch loudly through the snow and he shivers so loudly he swears the others can hear him coming a mile away.

Reaching the edge of the shelter, Janovec reaches down and pulls back the edge of the heavy snow covered tarp that covers the opening of the hole. Unslinging his M-1, he lowers himself into the ground.

"Hey, there, Janovec; how're ya doin'," comes Luz's voice out of the semi-darkness.

"Bout the same as everyone else, I suppose. Tired, hungry, freezin' my ass off, but other than that, guess I'm doin' pretty damn good."

George snorts.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm so cold, I can't feel my damn feet. 'Keep movin,' Doc says. Yeah, that's just what I'm gonna do, go for a little stroll through the goddamn woods so that Krauts can use my ass for target practice. Nope, I'm happy right here."

"Maybe they aren't watchin' us that closely," he muses.

"Whatever. Either way, I plan on staying in this foxhole long as I can. You know, 'out of sight, out of mind?' Maybe that'll work with these bastards.

Now it's Janovec's turn to laugh.

"Hey, George, got any smokes? I'm all out."

"Eh, let me see," he replies, digging through his pockets with numb fingers and pulling out two cigarettes, one of which he passes to the man next to him.

Janovec pulls out his lighter and lights both the cigarettes, taking a deep pull on his and enjoying the warmth of the smoke as it fills his aching lungs.

He never used to smoke, back in the states that is. But now that he's here, thousands of miles away from friends and family, the familiar smell of tobacco smoke brings back warm memories of home and growing up; makes him think of times when the world seemed safe and he lived in ignorance, knowing nothing of war.

Him and George sit in silence for a while, listening to the sound of sporadic MG fire coming from the far side of the line.

They're all tired, he thinks to himself. Both them and the Germans. All they want to do is finish the war and go home, away from death, away from destruction, away from the sorrow and pain of combat.

He misses his folks the most, he supposes, seeing as how he doesn't have a girl to return home to. At times, he thinks of the sad look his Ma had on her face as he told her goodbye, the way his dad shook his hand and told him he was proud of what he was doing. The memories are all he has now, and he uses them best he can; they help keep him warm at night. He can't wait til he gets back and can start adding good memories that'll hopefully cancel out some of the horrific ones he's recently acquired.

A single flare brings him back to the present. Looking up at the night sky, he watches it slowly fizzle out into nothingness. It doesn't take long after the darkness sets in for the shelling to start up.

SHHhhhhh BOom

SHHhhhhh BOom

The ground shakes as shells land all around them. He hears men cry out around him, hears the sound of boots desperately scrambling for cover.

Out of everything he has seen in the war so far, he hates these moments the most. He hates having to cower in a hole while the enemy pins them down and slowly picks them off, one by one. It would be much easier, he thinks, if there was something he could shoot back at, someway he could release all the tension and fear that has built up inside him. But you can't shoot at artillery fire and no one ever said war would be easy, so he just hunkers deeper into his hole and waits for it to end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

He wakes in the morning to George snoring in his ear and snow falling softly on his face. He has no idea what time it is, but is able to discern a slight lightening of the clouds overhead; dawn must be near.

Yawning, he shifts a little bit trying to stretch without waking George.

"Another day," he thinks. "Wonder how many more like it we'll have to suffer through."

It's tempting to go back asleep as he's fairly certain there are very few others up, perhaps just Lipton and Winters making their rounds, most others still drifting in the sweet clutches of their dreams. However, he could feel himself becoming too restless to stay still and with a sigh, realized he was up for the day with nothing to do but watch the line. And think some more.

He really wasn't sure which was the worse choice, but at least thinking took his mind off being cold.

Thinking back to when they'd jumped into Holland, he couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come since then. Hell, he'd never even expected to live this long, though he was certainly glad he had.

He remembered the evening after they came through Eindhoven; how he and Webster had settled down against a haystack in some farmer's field, relieved they weren't being shot at for the moment. He'd been close to Webster, had considered the man one of his best friends in the company, which was why when he'd been wounded and evacuated to a hospital he'd felt a little lost.

It wasn't as if he didn't get along with others in Easy, that was far from the case. It was just that men had formed certain groups within the company which had existed for months and months on end. For example, there was hardly a time when one saw Muck without Skip, Guarnere without Babe, Winters without Nixon…the list went on and on. And for a while, it was he and Webster who'd had the closest friendship, unlikely as it may have seemed.

Webster had fascinated him right from the beginning for some unknown reason. He appeared to be so sure of himself without coming off as cocky. And he was smart, too. Janovec could listen for hours on end while Webster discussed the merits and downfalls of the great modern wirters. And even though Janovec had never done a great deal of reading outside of what the teachers at his high school had made him do, he was captivated; he felt as if some of Webster's intelligence and charisma was rubbing off on him, a feeling which made him quite happy.

Boy, how he missed those long talks now. He could only imagine what Webster would have to say about their current situation; in fact, it brought a slight smile to his lips even thinking about it. And for something to make him smile in a time like this, you know it had to have been good.

He'd never thought of himself as the type cut out for any fancy schooling, but hanging around Webster had forced him to reexamine that notion. In fact, when he made it back home, he may just take some of the money he'd been saving and take a class or two at the state college, just to see what it was like. Just to say he'd done it. The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him, and he found himself actually having something after the war to look forward to.

Luz sifted against him once more, mumbling something about General Taylor and three days in his sleep.

He heard someone approaching their position and twisted to the left to better see who it was.

"Hey, boy, how're doing?"

It was Lipton, right on time, making his morning rounds, checking on all the men, making sure they'd made it through the night okay.

"I'm alright, Sarge. Just sittin' and thinkin'."

Lipton smiled at him.

"Not a bad thing to be doing, Janovec. Hell of a sight better than waiting for the Krauts to do something."

"You can say that again, Sarge," he replied.

"Well, you be careful now and keep an eye out. Wiggle your toes, too. As much as Doc would probably love to have a case not involving blood, I doubt he wants any more patients at the moment, so stay on his good side."

"You got it," he nodded.

"Alright then. Watch out."

"See ya, Sarge," he called as Lipton moved on down the line.

He didn't know how Lipton managed to do what he did; how he managed to keep up the morale of the men in light of such terrible conditions. But, somehow, he managed to do so.

Now Lieutenant Dike, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Just thinking about the officer filled him with conflicting emotions of anger and amusement. The man's inability to effectively lead those under him, his inability to make decisions, and his blatant display of indifference when it came to the well being of his soldiers were all reasons Janovec had no real respect for the man. However, it was pretty funny to watch him wander about the company, issuing orders here and there thinking he was important, only to be ignored by the NCO's who never let on what they were doing. Yeah, they were doing alright, even with Dike as their CO. Still, he couldn't help but miss having Winters as Easy's commander; with him you always felt like you'd make it through alright, that he wouldn't put you in harms way without a real good reason.

Geez, he thought, I'm turning into Webster. Should write all this stuff down, might make a good story someday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

They're moving into Foy. At least, that's what he's heard whispered among the men.

And Dike was going to be leading them. God have mercy.

At least up until this point, Easy had been able to avoid having to deal with Dike in an actual combat situation. Janovec had a sinking feeling things weren't going to go well at all.

He knew it was just a matter of time before they were moved out of the woods and into the town, after all, they'd been watching the German activity for days on end, just waiting to make a move.

The present moment appeared to be about as good a time as any; the weather was still cold but the fog had lifted a bit and would afford 2nd Battalion a good view of the area they were approaching. On the other hand, the Krauts would have them spotted in no time, but he hoped Easy would have a bit of an advantage on them.

Really, taking Foy shouldn't turn into a tremendously daunting task; after all, they were the advancing force and, despite the fact the Germans knew their location, they still had the element of surprise on their side. He'd heard Captain Winters talking to Captain Nixon in the CP last evening, where he'd heard the Captain say if they moved in hard and fast, and left the Germans little room to maneuver by coming in too close for effective artillery fire to be called in on them, they should expect to find the town only minimally fortified.

No one had an exact number as to how many Krauts were in Foy, but the fact they hadn't tried to lead an attack on the 101st's position, but had remained content with the occasional shelling led most solders to believe it was held only by a company or two at most.

Aside from the whole Dike issue, he was looking forward to taking Foy; at least then they could be moved off the line and have a little down time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

The attack is scheduled to kick off in the early afternoon. Lipton has been going around from man to man, checking equipment, ammo, and supplies, ensuring they're all ready to go.

Lipton's nervous. He can tell by the look in the other man's eyes he's worried about what's going to happen in Foy. Lipton has been running 2nd platoon ever since Lieutenant Peacock's very welcome departure. Janovec is in 2nd, along with Malarkey, Muck, Penkala, Luz and a few others. In his opinion, not that it counts for much, he thinks Lipton has done a great job of running the platoon. He wants to say that to the other man now, wants him to know he has faith Lip will bring them through this thing, wants him not to worry about them so much.

But he doesn't say any of this, doesn't feel it's his place, so he stays quiet, checks his rifle and ammo bandolier once more and waits.

He wanders over to where Malarkey, Muck and Penkala are huddled together in a group. He catches the tail end of the conversation, hears Penkala agree Muck is an idiot. How he's an idiot, he doesn't know, but figures it doesn't make much difference.

"Hey there," Muck greets him. "Ready for Norman the Fearless to hand deliver us to the Krauts?"

"You know, Muck, that question would be a whole lot funnier if the chance of that happening wasn't so great," he retorts.

"Hmm, suppose you're right. At least I've come up with another constant in life besides death and taxes-Dike managing to screw up," Muck smirks.

"Don't let ol' Norman hear you say that, he'll have your ass. He 'bout blew his top at Doc and Spina the other day just 'cause the two were in the same hole," someone else chimed in.

"Like anyone takes what he says seriously anyway. God, I wish Winters was still our CO. That way we may actually live through this," added Penkala.

"How you boys doing'?" asked Lipton from behind Malarkey.

"Just sittin' here, cold and waitin', so I guess everything's normal Lip."

"Glad to hear that, Malarkey. Look, boys, were gonna be moving out here within the next half hour or so, so stay on your toes. Don't worry about what might happen, just do what you've always done and you'll be fine. We've made it this far."

"That we have Lip, that we have."

"Since I've got most of the platoon here now, I'll go ahead and brief you on what's gonna happen. Easy's gonna be in the lead; we have about a quarter mile of open field to cover as quickly as possible; after all, we don't want the Krauts bringin' artillery down on our heads. When we hit the town our objective is to secure Foy and take prisoners if you can. If not, don't worry, that's not our main objective anyway. Dog Company is gonna be on our left flank with Item on our right. Both are gonna set us up with covering fire but we still have to move fast 'cause covering fire isn't gonna do us any good if we're dead.

"Now, look, I know I've told you all already, but don't worry. Dike is leading officially, but we know what to do on our own. I'm not telling you to disobey orders, but if you get into Foy and you hear something you know is FUBAR, do what you've been trained to do. That's not to say I don't want you all listening 'cause I do, but don't get yourselves killed out there for no reason, alright?"

Janovec nodded his head and watched his buddies do the same. He felt better now after hearing Lip's words, knowing the man trusted them enough to give them a bit of leeway in doing what needed to be done.

"Well, I know Captain Winters is gonna talk to you all before we set out so stick around for a few minutes."

Once again, they nodded in unison, as Lipton moved a few yards away to talk to on of the Sergeants.

Out of the corner of his eye, Janovec saw Winters head over to where they all huddled together in some semblance of a circle.

"Alright, men, listen up. I realize you've all been briefed by your respective platoon sergeants so I won't go over everything again. Just remember, get across that field and into Foy as fast as possible. Speed is key. Don't allow yourselves to get pinned down; keep moving. When you hit the town, secure it as quickly as possible, round up any POW's and enemy supplies that could be of use to us. I have faith in each and every one of you. Get in there and get out. God bless you all."

With that, Winters was pulled to the side by Nixon who held a map in his hands and was gesturing at something.

Winters was a good man, you just couldn't help but like and respect him. Unlike so many officers he'd come across during his time in the Army, Winters actually cared about what happened to the men who served under him and did his best to ensure they were taken care of.

"Alright, people, let's move, move, move!" Lipton shouted from the edge of the little clearing they'd gathered in.

"We're getting ready to move out. 2nd Platoon will fall in behind 1st and before 3rd. Remember, let's just get to the town and take it from there."

And with that, they fell into position behind Lipton and began making their way down the slope of the hill and into Foy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

They started off slow, out of necessity, as they moved through dense brush and trees on the downward slope of the hillside. All too quickly, though, they reached flat, open ground stretching for a quarter mile in front of them.

Janovec could see 1st platoon picking up their pace and beginning to move at a shuffling run through the knee deep snow.

"Come on, boys, let's move!" Lipton hollered at his platoon.

Clutching his M-1 tighter, he began staggering through the snow, attempting to move fast and keep his footing at the same time.

So far, so good. They had made it almost two-thirds of the way through the open expanse and had yet to be on the receiving end of Kraut artillery.

Just then, bullets began whizzing past him through the air, kicking up little puffs of snow where they missed their targets.

He could hear Dike hollering from somewhere in the midst of the chaos for the company to fall back. Janovec couldn't believe his ears. Fall back? They were already more than halfway through the extreme danger zone and stood a much better chance of making it to the edge of the town where they could hunker down and regroup.

The platoons were beginning to stretch out, with men stopping dead in their tracks, men scattering to duck behind haystacks, and men up in the front of the advance who hadn't heard Dike's order to retreat and kept going.

"Find some cover!" Lipton shouted at them.

Not knowing what else to do, Janovec dove behind the nearest haystack along with Malarkey while Lipton went to find Dike.

"Jesus Christ, I thought we'd at least make it into Foy before the dumbass got us killed, but I guess I was wrong," hissed Malarkey with disgust.

Janovec couldn't have agreed more. How in the world were they going to move now? The Germans had their position spotted and it was more than a minor miracle they hadn't started shelling them yet.

Peeking around the edge of the hay, he could see Dike, Lipton, Luz, and a few others at a haystack about 20 yards away. Dike wasn't doing anything, just sitting there, with a panicked look of indecision on his face.

This wasn't going to be good. Something had to happen fast before they all got themselves killed.

Even with all the talk about Dike being an incompetent fool, he never really thought he'd end up dying today. However, that opinion was rapidly changing as the German's rate of fire increased dramatically and the Brrrrrp! of an MG filled the air.

Oh, God, he really didn't want to die, there was so much he had left to do with his life, so many dreams he wanted to realize. He knew he had no real choice in the matter, but to have lived through all those hellish weeks in the forest, to have lived through the drop into Holland, only to die like this seemed such an unfair way to go. He wanted to cry, he wanted to yell, wanted to do anything to show his disgust at being put into such a stupid situation, one which could have been easily prevented with a little thought and awareness. He didn't want to die. Not like this.

Then, he caught a flash of movement off the side and saw a lone figure running down the hillside. As the figure came closer, he was able to see it was Captain Speirs, from Dog Company, who was fast approaching. He sprinted over to where Dike was, said something he couldn't make out to the man, and then turned to Lipton.

Thank God, it looked like Speirs was taking over. They might just live after all.

Lipton darted back over to them.

"Malarkey, link up with Muck and Penkala, they're the next stack over. I need you guys to drop some mortar rounds on the building with the caved in roof. Keep at it till it's gone. Janovec, come with me."

He was on his feet in a flash. Just a few short moments ago, he was sure he was a goner. Now, to have that certain death sentence lifted, he felt a renewed sense of energy.

He stayed with Lipton as they made their way to the low fence surrounding the edge of Foy.

Crouching behind a fencepost, he watched for any signs of movement, fully prepared to shoot the first thing that moved who wasn't a paratrooper. Dike excluded.

Two men ran out of a building to his three o'clock, dressed in overwhites and carrying an ammo box between them. Leveling his rifle, he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger twice. Two bodies fell to the ground.

He used this as his chance to move to a more concealed position by a little brick house. Staying low, he moved around the corner and spotted 1st platoon already advancing through Foy.

Standing up, he ran over to where men were securing buildings and joined in. Their suspicions had been correct, the town was only minimally manned, and those there did not put up much resistance once they realized how outnumbered they were.

Less than an hour after it had started, the attack on Foy was over. But not without a cost.

Several good men had lost their lives that day, including several young replacement privates. A fair number of others were wounded, but fortunately, none were too severe.

He wanted to know what happened to Dike, but couldn't bring himself to ask Lipton who looked exhausted. He'd find out soon enough.

He figured he'd be grateful to Speirs the rest of his life for rescuing them from Dike. It was a relief to go into combat again with a leader who knew what they were doing.

The 4th Infantry was moving into the area that evening, which meant they'd be pulled back shortly, off the line and back into some degree of civilization.

He couldn't wait. Already thoughts of hot chow and sleeping indoors were running rampant through his head.

He couldn't believe it. He'd made it. He'd lived.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

That evening, they spent the night sheltered in a nearby church, listening to the choir of heavenly voices as they sang words of comfort and faith, both of which were distant memories for Janovec and the rest of the men.

He sat on a hard wooden pew, rifle propped up between his legs and helmet in his lap, just enjoying the warmth and safety the moment held. It felt so good to be inside again, to be dry, and to not have ice and snow frozen to his helmet and weapon.

Breathing a gentle sigh, he felt himself beginning to doze off slightly, eyes barely open. He heard the murmur of voices off to the side and, focusing slightly, was able to make out one of the speakers as being Lipton.

He hadn't felt this relaxed in months. He guessed that after spending so long on the line, any sudden reprieve would be magical in its effects on the men. He figured if he was feeling this good, the others weren't too far off from his state either.

Twisting a little in his seat, he let himself slump over to the side a bit and rest against whoever was sitting next to him, hoping he didn't disturb them.

His eyes slipped shut and he slept.

**Part 7**

He woke in the morning to the sounds of trucks rumbling by outside and light streaming through the stained glass windows far above his head, throwing a rainbow of colors over himself and those who still slept.

Arching his arms over his head, he stood slowly, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and placing his battered helmet back on his head.

As he moved toward the door, Janovec caught sight of Lipton leaning against the doorframe, smoking a cigarette and watching the vehicles move into town.

Lighting his own cigarette, he moved to stand next to Lip.

"How's it goin', Sarge?"

"Alright, Janovec, alright. How're you holdin' up?"

"Me? I'm good. Got to sleep inside last night, didn't I?" He said with a small smile.

Lipton huffed a small laugh and took another drag on his cigarette.

"You have a point there, Private."

"So, Lip, what's the story? What're all those trucks for?"

Sighing, Lipton tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

"We're moving out this afternoon to Hagenau to relieve the forces already occupied there. We'll be leaving at 1400 hours. That's all I know."

"You serious, Sarge?"

"Why don't you get your gear in order, have everything ready to go. I'm gonna check on the rest in there, wake 'em up and get 'em going."

"Got it." He hurriedly finished the rest of his smoke and set to policing up his gear, not that he had much with him, but what he did have he wanted to make sure he kept.

As he gathered his stuff, he thought about Hagenau, where it was, and what they'd be doing there. The last time they relieved a division, they'd spent a month freezing and dying in the forest. He hoped this time wouldn't be as bad and that they'd actually have a roof over their heads and hot chow once or twice a day.

Once he was finished inside, he wandered out to sit on the stone fence that ran along side the dirt road just to watch what was going on. He saw the occasional deuce and a half pass, filled to the brim with supplies; saw locals dart from their houses to their barns and back, shooing clucking chickens back inside where they'd be safe from hungry soldiers.

Luz joined him after awhile, sitting down next to him and fiddling with his radio.

"Something's wrong with the damn thing, but I don't know what," Luz muttered as he twisted a few knobs before giving up and smacking the metal box.

"It was working fine yesterday, and then when I woke up today, I couldn't pick anything up at all."

"Maybe if you leave it alone it'll start working again," Janovec suggested, having no knowledge of radios and how they worked whatsoever.

"Yeah, maybe. Heard we're movin' out again."

"Yeah, that's what Lip says."

"At the rate they move us around, you'd think we were the only goddamn division in the entire army. Couldn't they find someone else, anyone else, to send into Hagenau? Maybe some people who haven't been living in foxhole for the past month?"

"Tell me about it, George. And here I was, thinking we'd actually get a break for once." He sighed.

"So, how much longer we got til we have to leave here?"

"Well, Lip said we'd be moving out around 1400 hours so we have," pausing for a moment, Janovec glanced down at his watch, trying to make out the hands of the clock through the filthy face. "About 40 minutes left."

"Well, I'm gonna find the rest of the guys, see what they're doing before I go looking for the trucks. Maybe try and figure what the hell's wrong with this thing," he said kicking at the radio resting by his feet. As soon as his boot struck the side, the box came to life, issuing forth static and bits of transmissions.

"Whaddya know?" George said. "Guess I shoulda kicked the damn thing in the first place."


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 8**

They arrive in Hagenau early that evening and begin occupying houses throughout the town just as the sun starts to set. The 4th Infantry had trashed the place up pretty good, but there were bunks and rations left behind so he couldn't complain too much.

It was a great feeling to have his own bed of sorts again, inside where it was warm and dry and he didn't have to stay constantly on edge. Tossing his gear onto the mattress, he flops down next to it, looking over at Heffron who is the next bunk over.

"Can you believe this?" Babe sounds positively giddy. "We make through the forest, through Dike, and at the end of it all we got warm beds and chow? I'd almost forgotten what this felt like."

He can't help but smile. For all his bravado and toughness, Babe isn't that different from him, really.

And with nothing left to do for the day, he gets up off his bunk, wanders over to where Luz, Malarkey, McClung and a few others have started up a poker game. What a great way to spend an evening.

**Part 9**

Morning comes far too soon for everyone in 2nd platoon. Janovec rolls over, attempting to avoid the sun shining in his eyes. Pulling the blanket over his head, he manages to doze back off for awhile, but is woken soon after by the smell of food. Hunger eventually outweighing his desire for more sleep, he gets up; hurriedly putting his boots on and going in search of the smell.

He follows the aroma to a room downstairs where a makeshift kitchen has been sit up. Heated K-Ration cans are being passed around for all to sample. Grabbing his spoon, he takes an open seat at the table and digs in.

A few hours later, Easy Company is still without anything to do. It felt odd to him, to be given so much free time, and he couldn't help but wonder when it would be over. As it turned out, he'd have his answer shortly, along with a surprise.

Around 1300 hours, while he was smoking and staring out a window onto the street below, he heard two sets of heavy footsteps making their way up the staircase. Two men came into the room; the first was a Lieutenant he'd never seen before in his life and the other was Webster, his close friend from months before. Leaving Malarkey to deal with the officer, he headed for Webster.

"Webster! How're you doing?"

"Hey, Janovec; I'm doing alright. How are you and the rest of the guys?"

"Eh, I guess we're holdin' up pretty decently. Just got pulled off the line last night; lucky bastard, you missed all that."

"Yeah, well, I feel like I should say 'wish I'd been there' or something equally appropriate, but the truth is I think I'm glad I returned when I did."

"Grab a bunk, Web, why dontcha? Nothing goin' on right now. Probably be a game of poker in an hour or two, though, is you want to join in."

For some reason he couldn't understand, Webster got a funny look on his face at the mention of having nothing to do.

"Hey, Web, why're you lookin' like that? I thought you liked poker." 

"I do, it's just, well, things aren't going to be quiet here much longer."

"What do you mean?" 

"I was at Battalion CP, waiting to find out which platoon to report to when I overheard Captain Winters say there's going to be a patrol tonight. Something about crossing the river for German prisoners."

"Tonight, you say? Did they say who was going?" 

"Captain Winters told Captain Speirs to pick 15 men to send on the patrol. Speirs only named off three names initially and told the Lieutenant to tell them they were going."

"Wait, are all three from 2nd platoon then?"

Webster nodded.

"Well, who then? Who do they want?"

"Heffron, McClung and Ramirez."

"Damn. After Foy, too, just….damn."

"He didn't say who the other 12 were supposed to be, so I guess he could always change it up still. Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Janovec didn't want to believe Webster's words were true, but he knew his friend wouldn't lie to him, either. Why the hell did they have to go out on patrol? Like a coupla German Privates or Sergeants could be able to tell them anything that important.

"Alright, people, listen up!" Malarkey's voice filled the room.

"There's gonna be a patrol tonight. Have to cross the river, get a few POW's in the hopes that they'll talk. Heffron, McClung, Ramirez, you're going. At the moment, they don't want anyone else from 2nd, but knowing how things usually go around here, they probably will before long. Got a briefing at 1700 at Battalion CP, so be there. If the roster changes, I'll let you know."

Glancing over at the three men whose names were just read off, he almost felt guilty he wasn't slated to go along. Poor Babe looked like he could almost cry, even though Janovec knew he never would.

"Oh, and by the way," Malarkey continued. "We've got showers here so let's get going before we miss our turn."

Now that'll feel good, he thought. A shower and a nice clean uniform. Wonderful. He turned and followed Luz out the door.

**Part 10**

They lined up in the streets, peeling off their filthy clothing as they waited to go into the heavy canvas tents where the showers were set up. He dropped his clothes by the side of the street and walked into the warm mist. It felt amazingly good.

He had only a little soap on him and he used it all, scrubbing at his hair, face, neck, back, hell, at everything, until his skin turned from grey to pink and he actually felt clean again.

Making his way through the tent carefully avoiding the others still showering, he went out the flap at the back where he grabbed a towel off a large stack and moved on down the line to be given a clean uniform.

Quickly drying his hair, he pulled the uniform on, followed by his boots and helmet and began making his way back to 2nd platoon's HQ when he spotted Webster staring down an alley.

Following his friend's gaze, he spotted the new Lieutenant, Lieutenant James or Jones or something, talking to Malarkey, but he couldn't hear what was said.

Shrugging his shoulders, he continued down the street.

Later, when everyone was back at platoon HQ, Malarkey had another announcement to make.

"Okay, listen up, there's been a change to the roster for tonight's patrol. Unfortunately, they want more people from 2nd. Luz, Janovec, Cobb, Webster, Jackson-you're all going now also. Still meet at 1700 up at CP to be briefed."

"Jesus Christ," Luz groaned. "Is there anyone they don't want from 2nd?"

"No, I think that sounds like everyone," Malarkey said.

"I swear to God, it's always 2nd. Even if we had 3 people, they'd still come looking for us."

"Might as well head on over to the CP; it'll be 1700 here shortly."

**Part 11**

They were all gathered around a table, waiting for either Captain Winters or Captain Speirs to come in and brief them. They weren't kept waiting for long.

"Ten-hut!" Lieutenant Jones called the room to attention as Winters walked in.

"As you were," he said, waving the men back to their seats.

"As I'm sure you're aware of by now, there has been a patrol scheduled for tonight. The objective is to cross the river, secure the three-story house by the river bank and secure any people inside to be taken as prisoners. Before you leave, I want you to set up an explosive charge on a time delay, make sure the building gets destroyed after you return to our side of the river. The entire battalion is set up to provide covering fire for this operation; Sergeant Grant, here are two whistles, only blow them when you are safely across the river, and the machine gunners will open up. Be careful out there; don't take any chances. We've come too far for something to happen now. Alright, then, patrol is scheduled to leave at 0100. I expect a full report first thing tomorrow morning, alright?"

"Yes, sir," they replied.

"Sergeant Martin will be leading the patrol with Lieutenant Jones along as an observer. I know you men will do fine."

With that, Winters turned and left the room, leaving everyone behind with their thoughts.

**Part 12**

That evening found 2nd platoon's HQ a hub of activity, as men worked to silence and blacken any gear that may make noise or shine. Rifles were taken apart and carefully cleaned, helmets left behind on bunks for they'd reflect too much moonlight and quickly give them away.

Janovec sat on a crate, M-1 balanced in his lap while he used a lighter to blacken his front sight post in order to make aiming easier. Around him others were doing similar things, some placing black tape over metal buckles or snaps, some opting to leave certain gear behind all together. Janovec wanted to get this over with, come back, and go to bed.

"Alright, everybody, let's get ready to move out," Martin called from the doorway.

They gathered what necessities they didn't already have on them and fell into formation behind the Sergeant and Lieutenant.

Quickly, they made their way to the edge of the river where four black rubber boats were waiting for them, as well as a rope that spanned the width of the river to make navigating easier.

They piled in, trying to be as quiet as possible but failing miserably when the last boat, the one behind Janovec, some how flipped over, sending men and equipment splashing into the water.

"So much for surprise," someone whispered in the darkness.

"Shhh!," another voice hissed.

The boats began moving across the river, one at a time, as the men pulled on the rope strung over their heads and guided themselves across.

Upon reaching the other shore, they got out quietly and dragged the boats up onto dry land so they wouldn't wash away. Creeping towards their target building, they slowly advanced to a rear door.

Tossing a grenade through a window, they hurriedly kicked open the door and swarmed inside, hoping to catch the enemy off guard. However, a young Private, Private Jackson, who was also along on the patrol, tossed a second grenade at the window, but missed. The grenade bounced back and exploded at his feet. His screams and cries of pain soon filled the air. Two men dropped back and began moving him toward the boats while the rest of them continued inside.

The Krauts put up a little resistance at first, but not too much, especially after rifles were waved in a few faces and Webster said something in German that made them all shut up real quick.

Ushering the prisoners back to the boats in a hurry, they all climbed in and waited for Cobb to come back from setting the explosive charge. Once he arrived, they set off across the river once more, in a hurry to get Jackson to Doc Roe and see what could be done for him.

Back on their side of the river, Sergeant Martin and Lieutenant Jones escorted the prisoners up to Battalion while Luz went looking for Doc. Janovec helped carry Jackson inside and was horrified when the man's flesh came off in his hands.

A minute later, Doc Roe came running into the room, trying to asses Jackson's condition.

"It's al'righ, It's al'righ," he told the frightened man.

"You're a gonna be jus' fine as soon as I get these here bandages on you."

Doc worked as fast as he could, hands flying as he tried to stop the seemingly endless bleeding.

Then, suddenly and without warning, the light faded from Jackson's eyes and his body went limp. Doc halted what he was doing and stared at the body before him for a good minute or so before pulling the blanket up over his head.

Gloom filled the room as Jackson's body was carried out. They'd gotten two prisoners but lost a good man in the process. Janovec hated this war.

**Part 13**

The next afternoon, there was word going around that Battalion wanted another patrol to cross the river again that night. Apparently, the two prisoners they'd picked up the night before had talked and now the higher ups wanted more information. It made Janovec mad just thinking about it; he knew they wouldn't get anymore prisoners as easily as they had last night, after all, the Germans were probably on alert after waking up and finding some of their soldiers gone. Janovec thought it was a pretty stupid idea to have them go wandering across the river once more in hopes of getting some more Krauts.

They assembled again that afternoon, once again in the CP, the same roster as the day before-minus one-and waited for the inevitable briefing telling them they were, indeed, going back across the river.

Captain Winters walked in the room and sat his helmet down on the table. For the first time, Janovec noticed how tired the officer appeared to be. Winters looked exhausted, utterly worn out and nothing like the Lieutenant he'd known months before.

He was still thinking along these lines when Winters began to speak.

"I want you men to know how proud I am of you for what you did last night. Colonel Sink's proud also. He's so proud, in fact, he's ordered another patrol for tonight. Now, everything will remain the same as last night's operation except the kick off time has been changed to 0200. Everybody clear on what's going to happen?"

They nodded.

"Good. I want you all to get a good night's sleep tonight. In the morning you will report to me you made it across the river, into the town, and were unable to secure any prisoners. Understand."

Once again, the all nodded, realization slowly dawning in their eyes.

"Alright, then. Look sharp for tomorrow, we're moving off the line."

Janovec watched Winters leave and was filled with an overwhelming sense of respect and gratitude toward the man. He knew how much trouble Winters would be in if this phantom patrol were ever discovered, so it spoke volumes about how much he cared for his men that he'd even consider doing something like this.

Webster was back, Winters was still watching out for them, and he was alive. Things were looking up.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 14

Before he even realized it, Janovec found himself sleeping indoors, eating hot chow, and not fearing for his life every moment of the day. Yes, it seemed things were indeed looking up.

They had moved into another town the previous day, securing and occupying it with little resistance from the enemy.

The past few days and weeks had flown by, leaving in their wake war weary soldiers glad for the break in actual fighting.

Life had settled into something of a routine when word of the prison camp at Landsburg reached them. There were no words in him to express the horror he felt at seeing those poor people locked up like animals. Wasn't war terrible enough for the soldiers who fought it? Did innocent civilians need to be brought into the mix also? He fell asleep that night confused and haunted, waking several hours later with tears he didn't remember crying dried on his cheeks.

The next day was no better; he and several others from his squad were sent to help oversee the work at the camp. He swore to himself he'd never forget the looks on the townspeople's faces as they moved the bodies.

Part 15

Orders had come down from higher that they were to move out once again, this time further into Germany.

It was wonderful, entering Berchtesgaden and meeting no opposition. He, Luz, Perconte and a few others made their way through town, snagging souvenirs where they could.

It didn't take long for instructions to be issued to the platoons, and, at least in Easy Company, the instructions were welcome: secure the Eagle's Nest.

Letting out a loud whoop, he guessed a good half of the Company was on their way up to Hitler's hideaway.

Afterwards, he would feel a bit odd saying he was disappointed in what they found upon reaching the Eagle's Nest. It was obviously more for show than anything else and held few things of interest overall. Still happy and smiling, he made his was to the Company area, found a tree, and took a long nap while others around him talked, smoked, or did the same.

He was shaken awake some time later by a very loud, very excited Luz.

"Hey! Hey, Janovec! Guess what? Krauts surrendered." His grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Can ya believe it? We may just live through this after all!"

Still waking up, it took a few moments for Luz's words to make sense.

"Come on, get outta here. You serious?"

"You bet," he replied, already on his way to share the news with the next sleeping, soon-to-be-woken paratrooper.

He didn't know what to say, and having nothing else to do at the moment, lay back down in the soft grass under the tree. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was going to see his parents again, going to see his girl again, going to see home again.

He closed his eyes.

It was the best feeling in the world.

Part 16

As it turned out, occupation duty was much more boring than fighting a war ever was. Less dangerous, but much, much more boring.

Standing along the side of the road, checking vehicles as they passed through and listening to the German soldier he was working with talk for hours on end made for long days.

Glancing down at his watch, he noted his shift was almost up and hoped his relief would be arriving soon.

As if on cue, a Jeep rounded the curve at that moment and, spotting Webster in the passenger seat, gave a big grin.

"Your turn now?" he asked, handing the papers he'd been holding to the other man.

Webster merely nodded and gave a half smile around the cigarette in his mouth.

"Yeah, I got it. Go on," he said, motioning toward the waiting Jeep.

"Alright then. I'm outta here."

Hopping in the vacant seat, he settled in for the return ride to camp, tilting his helmet back a bit to better see the passing sights.

He wasn't paying attention when the Jeep jerked hard to the left.

All he heard was a loud crash as a jolt ran through his body.

Everything went black.


End file.
